


Elevation

by izzyb



Category: Hot Fuzz (2007)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-02
Updated: 2012-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-28 18:05:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/310654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izzyb/pseuds/izzyb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a day filled with pesky sheep and bloodthirsty motorists, all Nicholas wants is a cup of tea (and to see Danny, really).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Elevation

There is a red smear on Danny’s face that is keeping Nicholas staring—even though by this point, he should be at least sitting down, not leaning tiredly against the wall transfixed by his constable's (dirty) face.

“You’ve got some red on you—right there,” Nicholas reaches out and rubs his thumb over Danny’s chin until it’s gone. It wouldn’t do to have any last reminders of their bloody day from hell. Who knew that sheep could cause so many problems? Nicholas should have realized that the helpful citizen wasn’t joking when he phoned in to say that the sheep were invading the town (not when he remembered the lovely swan incident(s)). Of course, they were just in the way, which was irritating to many motorists, but not deadly.

Now the man taking the axe to the sheep in frustration? They had taken that very seriously.

Nicholas straightens up with intentions of heading into the kitchen to brew some tea, but sways dangerously as the blood rushes to his legs.

“Easy there,” Danny says and leads him over to the couch—the beautifully comfortable couch that is so far away from the promise of tea, but welcome all the same.

“I hate sheep,” Nicholas mumbles as he leans his head back and hears Danny puttering around the room—no doubt looking for films to further Nicholas’ action movie education.

“No you don’t—you just hate the fact that you can’t arrest them.”

“They smell, they cause problems, and they taste awful,” Nicholas counters—opening his eyes to see Danny smirking at him.

“Poor Nicholas. His plans for justice thwarted by smelly sheep.”

“We did arrest him—he that attempted to kill the bloody sheep.”

It’s a while later before Danny responds, the sounds of whistling and water running from the kitchen the only noise, but he eventually falls down hard next to Nicholas on the couch and slips a mug of tea into Nicholas’ limp fingers—the liquid tipping dangerously over the side.

“Light, but not sweet. Just the way you like it.”

“Thanks, mate.” Nicholas takes a sip, then another, and lets the warmth flow from his lips to his chest and caffeine (Danny doesn’t believe in herbal teas) to his head, clearing it and giving him enough energy to set the cup down and turn to Danny.

“You did well today.”

“Really?” Danny nudges his leg against Nicholas’. “Not too much with the baton?”

“No—just the right amount of threatening police officer.”

“Well. Good,” Danny says and leans over with the obvious intention of nabbing the remote, except he misjudges the distance and ends up practically sprawled over Nicholas’ lap.

“Like that, then?” he murmurs, shifting his weight so that Danny is more comfortably settled.

“Fuck, Nicholas. I thought you were tired.”

“Not at all—I—“ His plans to protest are interrupted by a yawn that he can’t even pretend to cover. “Let’s just watch something. What’s next on the list?”

“Lethal Weapon.”

Nicholas snuggles in deeper into his corner and picks up his cup of tea. “Bring it on.”

It’s as Danny’s smothering a laugh then cursing under his breath at the television that doesn’t want to work that Nicholas remembers just why he puts up with inconvenient and smelly sheep.

He would take a year of days like today over the isolation of London.

“Look at the screen. You’re missing it,” Danny says.

So he does.


End file.
